Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
But I never rebuilt myself.
No, I was still a shell of a man, living deep in a pit of rage and self-loathing.
Until Brianne came along.
“I’ve been thinking,” I say, staring at the old man I once respected more than anyone in the world.
I speak French for him, and he speaks it back.
“Sounds like a novel concept for you.” He sneers at me. “What is this? I’m tired. My wrists ache. I’m hungry. Is this supposed to be torture?”
“Do you remember when I was sixteen and you let me sit in on a meeting with one of your street-level dealers? You basically threatened him, and he stood up to you. Do you remember that?”
Pascal leans back on his cot with a sigh. “I’m not interested in reliving the past with you, Julien.”
“After he left, I found him outside. I beat him with a club and broke six of his ribs. I nearly killed him because he disrespected you. And do you recall what you said to me when I got back home?”
He’s staring at the ceiling, his hands behind his head. “You got blood on your shirt. That’s another fucking expense.” He closes his eyes and yawns. “If you’re here to whine about how hard I was on you, I’m not interested. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m here to make you understand. I respected you. I trusted you. But there was never any of that in return. That’s why this is happening. That’s why I should have done it much sooner.”
“Ah, yes, you grow a spine, but much too late like always.”
I walk over to him and press the barrel of the gun against his right knee. “You let me down. But really, I let myself down, and that won’t happen again.”
He stares at me, eyes going wide. “Julien. Wait a moment.”
“I’m not going to kill you, Pascal. You’re worth more alive. But that doesn’t mean you need to be whole when I’m done with you.”
“Julien—” His eyes are wide with terror.
I pull the trigger. The gun barks and Pascal’s knee explodes in a mess of bone, sinew, and cartilage. He screams in pain as he curls forward over the wound, nearly falling off the cot. I step back and watch him sob and curse me in French, only turning away when I hear Brianne’s footsteps in the hall.
She appears in the doorway looking frazzled, wearing only one of my oversized t-shirts.
“Julien? Are you okay?”
I walk to her and steer her from Pascal’s view. I shut his door and lock it. “I’m okay. I just had a conversation with him, that’s all.”
“Did you shoot him?”
I bend down and kiss her before lifting the shirt enough to pat her lovely, bare ass. “I shot him.”
“Why? What? I don’t understand.”
“I want to make sure he never forgets who I am and what he did to me. And I suspect now he never will. At his age, with a wound like that, it’ll never heal right. No fucking chance. He’ll be limping and in pain until the day he dies, which could be very soon, depending on how tomorrow night goes.”
Brianne chews her lip and looks at the door. Pascal’s whimpers are still audible through the door. “I should check on him.”
“Give it a minute. Then we’ll go in and make sure he doesn’t bleed out.”
“At least let me call the doctor.”
I squeeze her ass and kiss her. “You’re too soft.”
“You need him alive, remember?”
“Well, maybe I’m too stupid then.”
She swats me away and mutters curses under her breath as she storms off. I watch her go, loving the way her ass shakes.
Yeah, I’m definitely right: on the outside, she’s soft and lovely.
But inside there’s a steel column holding her up, and that won’t bend for anyone.
Chapter 46
Julien
The old trucking depot is deadly quiet. I stand with Ronan, Niall, and Jean near the main loading bay. Pascal sits in a wheelchair nearby, tied up tightly. I reluctantly gagged him this time; we can’t have the old piece of shit make trouble.
“Did you have to maim him?” Ronan asks, arms crossed over his chest.
“No, I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.”
“It makes things harder.”
“The doctor patched him up. He’ll be just fine.” Jean shoots a look at me and rolls his eyes. “What? He will.”
“He’ll never walk right again,” Niall says, but he doesn’t sound like he minds very much.
For his part, Pascal sits still and quiet. It helps that he’s on a lot of painkillers right now. Once those wear off though, the poor old bastard’s going to be in some serious agony. I can’t wait.
A young soldier comes jogging from the fence line. He’s wearing all black with body armor and a helmet. A rifle’s slung over his shoulder. It’s some serious gear, but Ronan decided to go all out for this little meeting.